


Sticky and Sweet - Truffles and Au Gratin

by alephthirteen



Series: Sapphic Symbiosis [1]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015), Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Creative Use of Appendages, F/F, Give Lena Powers Already!!!!!, It Grew a Third Hand, Other Symbiotes Came to Conquer, THIS IS WAY BEYOND THE AUTHOR NEEDS JESUS, These Ones Came to FUCK, These Things Are Great, This was inspired by the movie "Venom" and similar characters, Three Thumbs Up, everyone consents, everyone's a comedian, really though, wait
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:01:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28871259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alephthirteen/pseuds/alephthirteen
Summary: Once a year, Lena comes back to this lake outside Dublin.  Sits down on the gritty sand of the shore.  Talks to the water.  Closes her eyes and thinks of all those myths of kelpies and selkies and mermaids andbeautiful things in the deepoff the storm-washed shores of Ireland and hopes her mother is one now.She came later today and darkness fell while she prodded and picked at her emotional wounds.  Lena unfurls the simple tent and wriggles into her bag.  She wakes to a too-bright world where everything movesso slowlyand where she turns a tent pole to powder with her bare hands.  This must be what Kara feels like.Going back to National City is rough.  Being angry at Kara Danvers is nearly impossible, with her lightning quick smile and always making Lena try a spoonful of whatever ice cream she's raving about, cupping her chin to catch drips.Then there's the small matter of the voice in her head.  Scream, she calls herself.  Something about a symbiote?  Psychosis, probably.  Until her quarterly assassination attempt ends with Lena watching blood-spattered tendrils of neon-blue flesh retreat into her own skin.Fuck.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Series: Sapphic Symbiosis [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2117289
Comments: 5
Kudos: 68





	Sticky and Sweet - Truffles and Au Gratin

**Author's Note:**

> The "Sap'hyyk" aliens (it's phonetic!) in this have a similar power set to Venom in Marvel comics, but scaled up in power to be more appropriate in the Supergirl universe. They're also deeply matriarchal--based on ants--with males being either sterile soldiers and workers or breeding-only lumps of tissue. 
> 
> So basically, they're goopy, they're gay, and they're here to take Earth women!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Lena knows about loons, maybe has a retirement plan, and Kara is really just a friendly mutt, if you think about it.

**Shores of Lough Liffey, County Wicklow, Ireland**

(headwaters of the Liffey River, 30km to Dublin)

  
"Ya all right, miss?"

Lena opens her eyes. An old man with a lanky wolfhound, a walking stick, a camera and a pair of binoculars seems to have snuck up on her. Birdwatchers learn to be sneaky, she supposes.

"Yes. Think so."

He cocks his head at the sound of her voice.

"American?"

She levels her most acidic and salty Gailege at him, surfacing from those to a 'fuck you' in a Dublin-tinted Metropolis accent Lillian paid half a million to expunge.

"Guess not," he laughs. "Accent, though."

She laughs.

"I'm not sure I belong anywhere," she sighs. 

She wonders if she should tell him why she's here. Probably not. Accessible health care and all that. Not like she can complain she couldn't afford to be hospitalized for insanity.

"Cold," he mutters, drawing his tweed jacket tighter.

Lena holds out her flask.

"Poitín."

He chuckles, taking it.

"Irish after all. What brings you to this lakeside, young lady? This lakeside with not a single red-throated loon, the tease."

Lena points at a spit of land with a run-down, red-stained boat shack on it.

"When I was little, my mum and I came here to swim. Did it three times a week, some summers. We'd change and go into the water, there. One day, when I was four it was cold and I didn't want to go. Few minutes later, I look up and she's gone. I think I screamed. Can't remember. Hope I did. But mostly I just did nothing. Not a damn thing. Let my mother drown. Took me years to realize how cruel that was."

"You were four, woman. Tiny little child goes in there and try to drag a grown woman out? You'd both drown. That'd be a damn shame," he jokes, nudging her hip with his walking stick. "Not enough green-eyed blackcrested doves left in Ireland. Gorgeous bird."

She turns to glare at him.

"I'm more about the geese than the ganders, sir. The gentler sex."

"Hah! Irish women are tougher than men anywhere else."

She snorts.

"Tougher than the men here, too."

"Aye, that too."

They drink and watch the sun sink together. Between midday and sunset, they trade tidbits that two strangers trade if they will never see each other again. He's been married twice, widowed once. Oldest boy's got kids of his own, now. Middle sister of that brood just broke up with her girlfriend, he tells her with all the subtlety of a drunk elephant. She lost a friend; she tells him. Did some things she's not proud of. Ended the great love affair of her life before it even began.

He's done things like that too, he tells her. Tells her she can't lose the love of her life until it begins and to never count God out.

All the while, the wolfhound noses about, licking her hands and bumping its great shaggy head into her side to make a spot to cuddle in. The beast is warm and touchy and stares so calmly and happily at her, like it could look into her eyes and listen for the rest of its life. Eagerness and faithfulness and long, clumsy limbs with more power than sense. So painfully like Kara. 

Finally, he yawns.

"Got a place to stay, miss?"

She points to her backpack and wiggles her thermos at him as if that somehow explains that she plans to just sleep on the beach.

"What about you? You live near here?"

"Between here and Dublin. Teach at a trade school. Mechanic. Just, be safe, sneaking around. New landlord."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I heard someone bought the castle up the hill. Fixing it up, brought in some archeologist fella to find the buried parts. Rebuild the whole thing."

"Did they?"

"Yeah, that and three quarters of the shore of the Lough. Harry sold. Figured he wouldn't be selling till judgement day. Rented it back to most. Must've paid a fortune."

"Curious..."

He chuckles.

"I'd best be on, young lady. Good to see we bring the good ones back, now and then."

He wanders off, the wolf-hound padding beside him.

When she was at MIT, she had an affair with a TA from Minnesota. Delicious whirl of flannels and blonde braids and big hands calloused on a farm and lots of dates spent on lakesides, or talking about places far away from Boston or Luthor Manor.

Lena cups her hands and ululates over the lake. A few heartbeats later, a loon calls back and the wolfhound barks happily.

* * *

Tken's navigator is dead, his spent flesh embedded in the controls. Mutiny and related plasma burns aside, he should have been able to pilot them to a planet somewhere on the charts. 

This is unacceptable. She is a abyssal goddess of the Sap'hyyk, inheritor of thousands of breeder females. She's supposed to be in the waters, her tendrils molded to her concubine's channels as they writhe and thrash. Instead, she's lost.

Goddesses do not get lost, let alone on planets like this.

She's injured too but consuming the ships hull stabilized her. Nothing that absorbing more of the aquatic life here won't cure. The local sapient species--if they can be called that--are inflexible duopods with grasping limbs and flimsy coverings of dead plant fibers. She consumed one--experimentally--and found him tasteless and his memories unpleasant. Seemed to have been some sort of assassin, here to hunt down a prominent female leader. A male! Thinking he could physically harm a female! This planet is worse than she'd feared.

At least she got an image of the female he sought.

She lets her tendrils float to the surface and spread out, listening and scenting and letting the spectrum of radiation wash over them. For a long time, nothing. A fish gets to close to a tendril, and she ensnares it, melting the carcass for its base proteins.

Then after nineteen day-night cycles on this Abyss-forsaken rock, something interesting happens. A burst of exotic radiation in a tight, rhythmic pattern. 

She joins her tendrils so she can form a more complex eye and scans the horizon.

On the shore is the female from the consumed memories, fumbling with a quantum-foam power cell to hook it to some sort of light generating apparatus. Casually wasting technological perfection on something so simple! 

Not an equal, to be sure. But so far above the rest as to be tolerable. It's been so _long_ since she's been with a host that she hopes she hasn't forgotten her manners.

**Author's Note:**

> ##  [Want to see the posh stuff? Want to see future chapters early?](https://rb.gy/b1fjhr)
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